Crossing My Own Lines — A Reflection on the Ivanovian Festival

Author: Saba Khutsishvili

Two weeks.

That’s all the time we had to create something that would live on stage — two short weeks that felt both endless and fleeting. Yet somehow, we made it.

It was my first choreographic performance, and it opened a doorway inside me I didn’t know existed. Through movement, I met parts of myself that had been silent for so long. It changed me. it gave me courage, breath, and voice.

I used to believe that everything on stage had to be perfect. Every gesture, every look, every sound. But this performance was different. It was minimalistic, fragile, almost bare. I was terrified of what people would think. Would they dislike it? Would they judge us?

At the beginning, fear stood in my body like stone. My hands trembled, my heart whispered doubt. But as the music began, and our steps unfolded one after another, something shifted.

Step by step, I crossed invisible lines — lines I had drawn inside myself.

And when it ended, I felt something I had never felt before: freedom.

Not the kind that comes from applause, but the kind that comes from honesty, from giving everything, no matter how imperfect.

I learned that even the simplest things demand care and devotion. A performance doesn’t need to be flawless,

it needs to be true, born from love and unity.

We were three souls who believed in what we were creating. That belief was our rhythm, our heartbeat, our light. And because we believed, others did too.